


Empty Spaces

by sof_gigante



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Hero Worship, Light Angst, May/December Relationship, Mutual Pining, Non-Explicit Sex, Past Leia Organa/Han Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27896482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sof_gigante/pseuds/sof_gigante
Summary: “There was no competition...Solo was long gone before she even invited me in.”Poe thinks he knows his place in Leia's life. Leia's still figuring it out.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Leia Organa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Empty Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place right before _The Force Awakens_. I wanted to play with the tension and intimacy between Poe and Leia in _The Last Jedi_ , which I obviously interpreted as sexual/romantic. Because they're two gorgeous people and strong characters and deserve happiness. 
> 
> Thanks to my amazing Beta, Castillon, who is generous enough to gamely edit pairings she didn't see coming. ;)
> 
> Canon events from comics and books taken into account, too, but I have not read everything, so please forgive any continuity errors. 

Poe had been in love with Leia since he was a boy.

How could he not be? She was a war hero, a leader, a royal princess. Grace, brains, beauty and steel all rolled into one. He’d grown up hearing stories about her from his parents, who’d fought under her command for years. She’d been their beacon of hope, and she became young Poe’s, too. Who needed fables about sleeping princesses and ancient wizards, when he could hear about the time Poe’s mother had flown with her on an encounter on Naboo? Or the time his father had snuck into an Imperial Base on Endor with her and his commander, General Solo. 

_Solo._ Her husband. For a while, they had been the New Republic’s royal family: war heroes with both rogue and regal blood, two sides of the same coin. Their baby had been born on the day that the Galactic Concordance was signed, a true symbol of peace and hope for the galaxy. 

Poe wished he actually remembered that day. He had only been three years old, so he was reliant on his father’s recollections of the afternoon. According to him, he and Poe’s mother had sat him down to watch the live holovid: the signing of the accord, the announcement of the birth, the celebrations across the galaxy. They’d wanted their son to witness the “historic moment,” the culmination of so much strife and sacrifice—and all Poe wanted was to go outside and play. He’d pouted and cried, frustrating his parents, to the point where his mother had been ready to give in…until Leia had come on the vid. As his father told it, Poe had stopped his fussing and stared, transfixed by the Princess’s smiling image. 

“I’d never seen a boy so smitten,” his father would joke every time he told the story, “I almost sent a comm to General Solo to tell him to watch out, he had competition!”

Now—especially tonight—the memory made Poe’s stomach twist. It wasn’t quite guilt, it was too sweet for that. Disbelief, perhaps. He looked over to his side, across the bed, where Leia lay sleeping. 

_“There was no competition, Dad,”_ Poe thought to himself, _“Solo was long gone before she even invited me in.”_

Poe studied her. If she was beautiful awake, then she was breathtaking when she slept. The carefully crafted mask of authority was gone. Sleep softened her lips and relaxed her jaw, loosened the furrow in her brow. Her long hair spread over the pillow, the silver threads in her dark tresses streaking like comets across a night sky. 

_Sleeping_ _princess._

He eased out of her bed and tiptoed to the ‘fresher. As he took a quick shower, he studied the bottles of products carefully arranged within reach: sea kelp shampoo from Mon Cala, black clay facial scrub from Rhamsis Callo, nysillin skin serum. Some might think it fussy, but Poe knew what these were: the one luxury she allowed herself. She ate the same rations as everyone else, drank the same bitter caf, slept in the same bland grey blankets. It was no life for a princess, but the life that Leia chose. 

He couldn’t help himself. He opened up the shampoo and took a deep whiff. There was the smell that drove him crazy every time he got close to her. It was floral without being cloying, green without being sharp. It conjured up images of wild waterfalls and well-tended gardens. It was the scent he drowned in when he was with her, burying his face into her neck to kiss that tender spot right behind her ear.

Poe replaced the bottle and finished his shower. He was about to reach for the small hand towel to dry himself with—like he had the past two times he’d been here. He may be bedding her, but it seemed far too intimate to share her bath towel. 

However, this time there was a second full size towel hanging on the hook besides hers. 

His heart flipped up into his throat. So, he’d earned himself a towel. What _exactly_ did that mean? That he was performing admirably enough that she wanted this to continue…or maybe she actually wanted him to stay the night this time?

He shook his head to clear the hopeful thought. Now that was wishful thinking. He wouldn’t presume. He knew what this was: a way for her to blow off steam. He was lucky she’d chosen him and not some other hotshot pilot. He wouldn’t pretend it was anything more to her…as much as he wished it was.

He snuck back to her bedroom, trying to keep as quiet as possible. She needed her rest. Hell, they both did. Tomorrow he headed out for another mission, and she had another day of endless meetings. The Resistance’s work was never done. 

It only took him a moment to dress and gather his things. He stopped, taking her in one more time. He’d see her again in a few hours, all snappy orders and cool resolve. General Leia. Right now, he just wanted one more second of _her_. 

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, her skin warm under his lips. 

“Sleep well, Princess,” he murmured, and slipped away.

****

Leia counted to thirty after the door slid shut behind Poe before opening her eyes. She’d woken to the sound of the ‘fresher clicking off, but she’d kept her breathing even to make him think she was still asleep. 

She’d dared part her eyes, though, to watch him dress. My, but Poe Dameron was a fine specimen, wasn’t he? Lean muscle and tanned skin, dark curls of fine hair accentuating his belly, his chest, his forearms. She’s caught herself staring at those forearms far too often in slow briefing meetings. Watching Poe roll up his sleeves was as intoxicating as a twi’lek tease-dance. 

_What are you doing with him, Leia?_

Leia stared at the empty spot that Poe had vacated. She knew the sheets were cool by now, but she reached out anyway…then she _reached_ with the Force. 

_Life. Heat. A taste of fleeting pleasure, of joy. A kiss against the soft spot behind her ear, the rasp of stubble along her neck. Dark eyes gleaming in the dim light, wanting so much. Wanting_ her _…_

Leia let go of the memory with a sigh. The empty spot in the bed seemed to get bigger, and she withdrew her hand. She thought she was used to it. Seven years used to it. Even before Han had left for good, she’d gotten accustomed to sleeping alone—one of them had always been off on some mission or work trip or another. It had become strange to share a bed, there near the end. She preferred the privacy, the silence, the full expanse of the mattress. 

So why did she miss Poe’s warmth, his soft breathing?

Poe and Han. She had a thing for flyboys, didn’t she? The ego, the swagger, the impulsivity…the raw bravery. That was where their similarities ended, though. Where Han had been cool and caustic, hiding his feelings behind barbed jabs, Poe wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so passionate—about flying, about the Resistance…about her. 

A delicious shudder ran through her. She still didn’t quite know how this had all come to be. She had certainly had no intention of seducing him, or allowing herself to be seduced again. She didn’t have time for that, not with so much at stake. Again. 

No, not “again.” Always. She’d spent her youth fighting the Empire. What hadn’t been taken from her, she sacrificed, leaving little room for her own happiness. Han had snuck in behind the walls, and before she’d even fully realized he was there, she’d been his. No one had ever worked so hard to be with her, to earn her heart…and then abandoned it as quickly when it had been broken.

_That’s not fair to Han. Ben broke him, too._

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t pushed Poe away when he’d presented himself, hadn’t resisted his charming smiles and smoldering glances. She’d done her time, she’d had her peace, and it had all been taken away. She’d be damned if she would sacrifice this small joy the universe was offering her…

…and oh, Poe brought her so much joy.

The first time they’d bedded, he’d been as eager as a greenhorn, unable to hide the wondering adoration in his eyes. It had been endearing, adding so much to his appeal. He’d tried hard to be gentle, reverent, until she’d had to tell him flat-out that she wouldn’t break. He’d asked if he should get protection. Leia had chuckled, and told him as long as his most recent round of health tests had come back negative, they didn’t have anything to worry about. His expression! You’d have thought she’d given him a brand new X-Wing! After that, she didn’t worry about him being too gentle. He’d been _just_ right.

She figured that after that first time, that would be it. A curiosity fulfilled, an itch scratched. A week later he’d knocked at her door after hours, two steaming mugs in hand. At first, she’d thought he was bringing tea, intending to talk through whatever “this” was. Instead, she’d found out it was hot spiced Tevraki whiskey, and Poe had no interest in talking. 

Tonight, she’d been the one to extend the invitation. There was something about this mission she was sending him on that set her on edge. Anything having to do with her search for Luke made her heart ache, but the idea of involving Poe in it made her uneasy. By now, she’d learned to trust in her intuition, trust in the Force. Sending Poe would be a catalyst, setting forth a chain of events that would change everything. She couldn’t see the outcome, only the ghosts of potential.

Victory. Reunion. Discovery. Suffering. Defeat. Death. So much death.

_I should’ve asked Poe to stay tonight._

Next time. When he returned from Jakku, she would offer him more than his own towel in her bathroom. She’d offer him the empty space in her bed, in her arms. He’d already occupied it in her heart.

It was time she let him know. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
